Sunday, December 16, 2012

'We are in the middle days of Advent,' so a Hymn sings says Jan Robitscher

The date of Christmas was set around 380, and Christians prepare in Advent ('Bear Fruit that befits repentance'.,. so says Luke 3:8)


Now you may well ask, what is all this stuff about repentance doing  here? After all, we are in Advent, not Lent. True, but here a little history might help. While the date of Christmas was set around 380, the season of Advent took longer to develop. It was first a season of six weeks of fasting for monks, then reduced to four weeks and, by the time of Pope Gregory the Great (late 6th c.) enjoined on everyone and especially for those to be baptized on the Feast of the Epiphany, January 6. Later, it was called a “little Lent”.

A sermon by Jan Robitscher


 

“Bear Fruit that befits repentance.”

(Luke 3:8)

 

Year C Advent 3 (RCL)                                                                                                                                        Jan Robitscher

                    Zephaniah 3:14-20                                                                                                                           St. Mark’s Church

                    Canticle 9                                                                                                                                                                Berkeley, CA

                    Philippians 4:4-7                                                                                                                              December 16, 2012

                    Luke 3:7-18

 

In the Name of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

                                             What is the crying at Jordan?

                                             Who hears, O God, the prophecy?

                                             Dark is the season, dark our hearts

                                             and shut to mystery.

                                                                                                         (Carol Christopher Drake)



The words of Carol Christopher Drake, of our own hymn, St. Mark’s Berkeley, tell us that we are in the middle days of Advent, the days of John the Baptist.  But did  you hear that last verse of the Gospel reading? 

               “So with many other exhortations, he (John the Baptist)

               proclaimed the good news to the people.” (Luke 3:18)

 

What? Does this sound like Good News to you? And on the Sunday of Gaudete (the first word of the Latin introit, Rejoice) and rose vestments?  It is not hard to imagine John waist-deep in the Jordan yelling at those coming to be baptized,

               “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the

               wrath to come? Bear fruits that befit repentance.” (Matt 3:7) 

 

Now you may well ask, what is all this stuff about repentance doing  here? After all, we are in Advent, not Lent. True, but here a little history might help. While the date of Christmas was set around 380, the season of Advent took longer to develop. It was first a season of six weeks of fasting for monks, then reduced to four weeks and, by the time of Pope Gregory the Great (late 6th c.) enjoined on everyone and especially for those to be baptized on the Feast of the Epiphany, January 6. Later, it was called a “little Lent”. But this still begs the question, what’s with all this penance, and John’s words, “Bear fruits that befit repentance”? 


 
St Mark's, Berkeley, California
 




John the Baptist. The Eastern Church calls him John the Forerunner. This man who lived alone in the desert and ate locusts and honey was anointed by God to proclaim a disturbing message to an apathetic people: that the Kingdom of God was at hand and would soon become tangible in the person of Jesus. The world’s darkness was about to be shattered by God’s light--a light so penetrating that even the most secret sins of the heart would be exposed. So John preached a baptism of repentance--the outward sign of a converted life--and he did it with very uncomfortable words:

                              “You brood of vipers! Who told you to flee from

                              the wrath to come? Bear fruits that befit repentance,

                              and do not say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as

                              our father.’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones

                              to raise up children of Abraham...” (Luke 3: 7ff)

 

And, almost in a parallel of the Parable of the Vine and Branches in the Gospel of John, where those branches that bear no fruit are cut away, so John the Baptist cries out that 

                              “even now the axe is lying at the root of the 

                              trees; every tree therefore that does not bear

                              good fruit will be thrown into the fire and

                              burned.”  (Luke 3:9)

 

Maybe this is the way into John’s seemingly harsh words. We must abide in Christ if we are to bear any fruit, and there can be no fear or coercion in this abiding. John would never accept these as motives for receiving his baptism.  What he did accept was the person who came face to face with the sinfulness of the human condition and was willing to turn around (the literal meaning of conversion) and walk in another direction. For John knew that only in this unburdened condition could one greet Jesus, the long-awaited Messiah and Lord.

 

But what of us?  We have received an even greater baptism because Jesus, himself sanctified it and gave the Holy Spirit in its waters. Yet we find ourselves in Advent, hearing again those words of John “Bear fruits that befit repentance.”

 

In recent years Advent has become a much less penitential season. This is good. No longer is Advent a “little Lent”.  But the Church in its wisdom (or the lectionary writers in theirs) did not excise this lesson and I, for one, am grateful. For it forces us to examine just what we are preparing for in this season. Are we looking for Jesus’ comings--in the past at his birth, in the present in Word and Sacrament, in his coming again in glory? John knew this, for he stood at the crossroads of the Old Covenant and the New. And he preached that the only preparation for Jesus’ coming was to repent of the sins of the past in order to look forward with joyful anticipation to Jesus’ coming. 

 

Perhaps what we need to repent of is that we would rather look elsewhere. Do we look at the  drawings on Christmas cards, dwelling in a sentimental past without seeing the wonder of God becoming human? Or maybe we are so busy shopping that we don’t see beyond the lights and advertising. Or maybe we must admit that we live in a culture of an awful convergence of guns and violence and mental illness with no help, that has no room for the prophetic words of John or the comings of Jesus and leaves the death of the innocent children and their teachers of Newtown, CT in its wake. Or maybe we don’t see the worth of looking back--or forward--at all and we succumb to our despair.  But it does not have to be so! What are the fruits of which John speaks?

 

St John the Baptist in the Desert, Collantes Francisco
 
 
Repentance is one thing, but bearing fruits is quite another. I believe these fruits are not much different from the ones John gave in answer to the question “What then should we do?” John  said:

                              “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone

                              who has none, and whoever has food must do likewise...”

 
John’s reply makes clear that preparation for Christ’s comings involves a willingness to look beyond ourselves. Gift-giving is not only for each other under the Christmas tree, but is for those who have nothing to give back. And so we collect socks and toiletries for the homeless here in Berkeley, create Christmas stockings for the residents of Berkeley Pines and we give to others beyond our neighborhood through Episcopal Relief and Development and other charities, year-round. 

St John the Baptist baptizes, Nicolas Poussin, 1635
And reconciliation is not only for Lent. We must strive to live in community with one another, bearing with one another and practicing “holy listening”. And the guidance of the Holy Spirit is not just for Pentecost. We must earnestly pray, as a community, for the presence, comfort and guidance of the Spirit through these days of Advent and beyond, for ourselves and for each other and for our world.  

 

Only by repentance and, as the monastic vow puts it, conversion of life, can we truly make room to celebrate Christ’s comings. St. Paul’s words from the letter to the Philippians (and the introit for this day) ring true:

                              Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say Rejoice.

                              Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The 

                              Lord is near... And the peace of God  which surpasses

                              all understanding will guard your hears and your minds

                              in Christ Jesus.

 
Toward the end of the 4th century, St. John Chrysostom wrote a sermon on John the Baptist. In it, he included some thoughts about the biblical figure at the crossroads which are also appropriate to the Advent season which would not enter the church calendar for another hundred years:

                              [John the Baptist] then let us emulate, and forsaking

                              luxury and drunkenness, let us go over unto the life of

                              restraint.  For this surely is the time of confession both

                              for the uninitiated and for the baptized; for the one, that

                              upon their repentance they partake of the Sacred Mysteries;

                              for the others, that having washed away their [sins] after

                              baptism, they may approach the Table with a clean 

                              conscience...”

 
Maybe John was not so much yelling at those who came receive his baptism as he was begging them to make the kind of preparation one would make to receive an honored or beloved guest. Let us do the same as we come to this Table  to receive Jesus, and so become Christ-bearers to a hurting world. Remember the humble birth of God into our humanity and clear away everything that hinders us  in anticipation of greeting him when he comes again. This is the good news John preached so that we might greet with joy the comings of our Lord.

 
Our own hymn invites us this way:

               (Sung)            Now comes the day of salvation,

                                    in joy and terror the Word is born!

                                    God gives himself into our lives;

                                    O let salvation dawn!

 

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Jan Robitscher: 'St. Andrew and I go back a long way--well, at least to my college years '


Sermon by Jan Robitscher: 'St. Andrew and I go back a long way--well, at least to my college years when I was confirmed at little St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Greencastle, IN. '


Andrew and his brother Simon (later to be called Peter) are casting their nets into the sea. Along comes Jesus calling, “Follow me and I will make you fishers of people”. What?  Again, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people”. They did not hesitate--not for family or friends or the money they might have made. “Immediately they left their nets and followed him.” (Matt. 4:20)  



 Front and eastern side of St. Andrew's Episcopal Church, located at 520 E. Seminary Street in Greencastle, Indiana, United States. Built in 1960, it is part of the Eastern Enlargement Historic District, a historic district that is listed on the National Register of Historic Places
 



[Jesus] said, “Follow me...”

(Matt. 4:18)

St. Andrew                                                                                                                                                                                  Jan Robitscher

                    Deuteronomy 30: 11-14                                                                                                                  All Saints Chapel

                    Psalm 19:1-6                                                                                                                                                           CDSP

                    Romans 10: 8b-18                                                                                                                            November 30, 2012

                    Matthew 4: 18-22

 

 

In the Name of God: Father, Son and Holy spirit. Amen.

 

St. Andrew and I go back a long way--well, at least to my college years when I was confirmed at little St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Greencastle, IN.  It was there that I made the decision to leave behind my Presbyterian roots,  receive Confirmation and follow Jesus on the road of this corner of Christ’s holy catholic Church. If parishes take on the characteristics of their patron saints, then St. Andrew’s was a good place to begin my life as an Episcopalian, though I did not know then the particulars of St. Andrew’s life or what an influence he would have on the Church.

 

St. Andrew has a feast day that is both first and last. First in the Calendar of Saints and last in the Church Year.  The saying goes:

                                             St. Andrew the King

                                             Three weeks and three days 

                                             before Christmas begins. 

 

Advent always begins on the Sunday closest to St. Andrew’s Day. While the Sundays of the long, green season come to a climax with the crescendo of readings about the end of things and the Feast of Christ the King, the calendar of saints ends--and begins--with the Feast of an Apostle about whom we know almost nothing.  But there is something that comes right out of today’s Gospel reading that we do know, and because of it we are here today.
 

I am not usually one for guided meditations, but imagine, in whatever way you prefer, the scene: Imagine the Sea of Galilee, the waves just beginning to cover the sand with water as the tide comes in again, the boats out a bit from the shore.  Andrew and his brother Simon (later to be called Peter) are casting their nets into the sea. Along comes Jesus calling, “Follow me and I will make you fishers of people”. What?  Again, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people”. They did not hesitate--not for family or friends or the money they might have made. “Immediately they left their nets and followed him.” (Matt. 4:20)  

 
Andrew figures again in several other places in the Gospels. He is earnest, always bringing others along with him, including his brother Simon Peter, who would later overshadow him. Andrew and Philip spoke to Jesus on behalf of the Gentiles who came to see him, and it was Andrew who brought forward the boy with the five loaves and two fish at the feeding of the five thousand.   He seemed to revel in discovering others and watching them succeed.   But back to our little guided meditation.

 
When I imagine this scene of the boats and the shore and Andrew and his brother, the question always arises, ‘What would have happened if they--or any or all of the disciples-- had said “No” to Jesus’ summons?  How different Jesus’ mission, indeed, how different the Church would have been!  But as it was they said “Yes” and followed, and the rest is history.  For this Apostle, about whom we know next to nothing, went on to have a share in Jesus’ ministry, to die a martyr’s death and to have a great influence on the Church in general, and our Episcopal Church in particular, though now we must take up the story in hagiography, where history leaves off.  


 
It is St. Andrew’s death that perhaps has had the most influence on  history and the Church in history. He is said to have been crucified in Patras, bound (not nailed) to an X-shaped cross (called a Saltire) --never mind that this probably dates to the 12th century! What is more likely true is that he did not deem himself worthy to be crucified in the same manner as Jesus--an act of humility that capped a life if devoted discipleship. The Saltire cross has graced the flags of several nations since 1385, including Greece, Scotland and England, whose flag incorporates three crosses: St. Andrew (Scotland), St. George (England) and ST. Patrick (Ireland). He is the patron of Scotland as well as Greece, Russia and several other Eastern European countries. Many are the stories of how (or if) his bones got from Patras, Greece to Scotland and how the Saltire cross came to grace the flags. 
 

There are many customs surrounding the celebration of St. Andrew. Because no weddings were permitted in Advent, he is the patron of unwed women, maidens and married women who wish to have children.  He is also the patron of fisherman, and also of singers and against sore throats!  

But what about the Saltire cross on the Episcopal Church flag? It was not until 1940 that the General Convention adopted an official flag for the Episcopal Church. William M. Baldwin made the first full-sized model of the flag.  Mr. Baldwin described the flag's design and symbolism in his own words: 

 
               "The red cross is the oldest Christian symbol dating back to the third century. The white represents purity and the red the blood of the martyrs. The blue is ecclesiastical blue, light in color, and used in the clothing of the      Blessed Virgin Mary and on this flag represents the human nature of our Lord which He got from His virgin mother. The nine cross-crosslets or Jerusalem crosses represent the nine dioceses that convened in         Philadelphia in 1789 when the Constitution of the Protestant Episcopal Church was adopted with its House of Bishops and House of Clerical and  Lay Deputies and the Book of Common Prayer. The nine cross-crosslets are set in the form of a St. Andrew's cross in memory of the fact that, to avoid swearing allegiance to the British Crown, Bishop-elect Samuel Seabury of Connecticut had to go to Scotland to be consecrated by Scottish bishops." 
 

Yes, but I think there is one more bit of symbolism here.  I believe the St. Andrew’s Cross also represents humility--something the church needs always and loses to its peril. For St. Andrew is said to have had a great love for the cross, longed for it and, in the end, embraced it. 
         

            When Andrew was led to the place of martyrdom, on beholding the cross from a distance he cried out: "O good Cross, so long desired and now set up for my longing soul I confident and rejoicing come to you; exultingly receive me, a disciple of Him who hung on you."  
 

May we, as we approach the season of Advent, follow the example of St. Andrew: his willingness to say “yes” to the summons to leave everything and follow Jesus; his willingness to bring others to Jesus and to allow them to overshadow him; and his humility in death,  as we celebrate the greatest act of humility--the coming of Jesus, Word-made-flesh, God-with-us, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Jan Robitscher's sermon Our Saviour, Mill Valley on Old Testament--New Testament

Why is the God of the Old Testament so different from the God of the New Testament?


Our Gospel lesson also speaks of suffering. James and John come to Jesus with what seems a childish request: Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” Jesus tells them that choice seats in the kingdom are not his to grant--at least not yet. He then questions them: “Do you know what you are asking? Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with [my] baptism?” They said yes, and, indeed, it was fulfilled--at least part of it--the suffering part.




“He is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward,
since he, himself is subject to weakness.”
(Hebrews 5:6)
Year B: Proper 24                                                                                                                                                  Jan Robitscher
                    Job 38:1-7 (34:1)                                                                                                                               Church of Our Savior
                    Psalm Psalm 104: 1-0, 28, 37b                                                                                                     Mill Valley, CA
                    Hebrews 5:1010                                                                                                                                                    October 21, 2012
                    Mark 10:35-45
 
In the Name of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
 
There is a question that comes up sooner or later in the Christian life. Sometimes it happens in a moment of doubt or in the course of spiritual direction or counseling, or, in older age, as we approach death. It is: Why is the God of the Old Testament so different from the God of the New Testament? Or at least, why does it seem that way? Is the God of Job an all-powerful tyrant? Is Jesus the “nice Son” of a mean and nasty God? If we read these lessons in a certain way, we are in danger of coming to just this conclusion. And what--if anything--do these lessons have to do with the diocesan ministry called An Episcopal Ministry to Convalescent Hospitals, affectionately known as AEMCH, and the reason for my visit? I think there is a connection, but first, back to the lessons.
 
In order to understand what is happening as God speaks to Job, we must first set the scene. Old Testament scholar Robert Alter gives us a good summary:
               When Job, in rapid succession, has been bereft of all his various 
               flocks and servants and then of all his children, and is stricken 
               from head to foot with itching sores, he refuses his wife’s urging
               that he curse God and die and instead sits down in mournful 
               resignation.
 
               [Job] confronts his three “friends” who have come with all 
               assurance of conventional wisdom to inform him that his
               suffering is certain evidence of his having done evil. Job
               consistently refuses to compromise the honesty of his own life.
               Eventually, the Lord answers Job out of the whirlwind... 
 
I can hear it now--God yelling at an innocent Job:
                
              
 
               Who is this that darkens counsel by words
                              without knowledge? 
               Gird up your loins like a man and I will question you
                              and you shall declare to me.
               Where were were you when I laid the foundations 
                              of the earth?
 
But wait! God does a remarkable thing here, and maybe God isn’t yelling. What if the story of Job is not so much about the “why” of suffering as it is about God’s presence in it?  What if what seems like God’s temper tantrum is really a poem--a love poem--about the creation of the world and all that dwells in it?  Granted there are no easy “outs” for Job. God rebukes him, and justly, for railing against suffering he cannot understand. Yet, In a systematic way, God is telling Job that there has never been a time when God was not with him--even in his suffering--for God created everything that is, as we affirm in the Creed every week. Job (who eventually has his life and goods restored) is reduced to silence before such a love-poem as God speaks. But at the same time his outlook changes from death to life in the presence of this awesome, tough-loving, caring God.  
 
Our Gospel lesson also speaks of suffering. James and John come to Jesus with what seems a childish request: Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” Jesus tells them that choice seats in the kingdom are not his to grant--at least not yet. He then questions them: “Do you know what you are asking? Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with [my] baptism?” They said yes, and, indeed, it was fulfilled--at least part of it--the suffering part. What Jesus is saying is that the choicest seats in the coming kingdom come only to those willing to serve and to suffer.  Later, when the disciples become angry with James and John, Jesus explained, perhaps in quiet tones, that if they want to be great in the coming kingdom, they must be a servant, and that he “came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Here, in Jesus, is the ultimate innocent suffering.  
 
Perhaps this still seems like God in two different voices--or maybe even two different gods.  But is it?
 
These themes are drawn together in our lesson from Hebrews. If it sounds familiar, it is because part of it occurs in the service of Tenebrae, in Holy Week. At St. Mark’s, this lesson is always chanted.             
               (sung) He is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward,
                              since he himself is beset with weakness.      
 
And it goes on to say that:
                              Christ did not glorify himself in becoming a high priest,
                              but was appointed by the one who said to him,
                              ‘You are my Son, today I have begotten you.’
                              ...Although he was a son, he learned obedience
                              through what he suffered; and having been made
                              perfect a source of eternal salvation for all who
                              obey him....
              
Here is Jesus--Emmanuel--God-with-us—in his own suffering; even in the midst of our suffering. 
 
So what does all this have to do with visiting the elderly frail in convalescent hospitals? 
 
Twice each month a group from St. Mark’s goes to visit the residents of Berkeley Pines Convalescent Hospital. While it is not a bad place, it is certainly not like The Redwoods or any other nice retirement facility. It is the final home for those on Medicaid. The folks there are often not fully there and the smells can be overwhelming. So this is not exactly a fun ministry. But we go there and we sing old timey hymns like “What a Friend we have in Jesus”:                            
               (sung)Have we trials and temptations?
                                             Is there trouble anywhere?
                              We should never be discouraged,
                                             Take it to the Lord in prayer.
                              Can we find a friend so faithful
                                             who will all our sorrows share?
                              Jesus knows our every weakness,
                                             Take it to the Lord in prayer.
 
And the music reaches where words cannot. We come and sing hymns, say Psalm 23, read Scripture, pray the Lord’s Prayer and sometimes give them communion. And they respond. Some sing, move to the sound of the old, familiar hymns while others just listen or fall asleeep. And we are not afraid to preach that God is with us in every circumstance; that suffering and death do not hold the last word for Christians, and that we are all preparing for what we say in the closing lines of the creed: “the resurrection of the body, and the life of the world to come”. Helen, a wonderful Jewish woman who has gone on to greater glory, attended our services faithfully  and each time reminded us that Jesus was a “good Jewish boy”. Then she would lead the Intercessions.  And we would sing another hymn...
 
The hardest part about today’s readings is their message that Jesus’ willingness to suffer on the cross for us demands our willing participation, however small. If Jesus can “deal gently with the ignorant and wayward”, so can we. Like Job, we must fall silent before suffering we do not understand, realizing that God has been with us all along. Like the disciples, we must not strive for seats of honor in the kingdom, but say “YES” to participating in Jesus’ service and his baptism of suffering. 
 
But we are not left to do this alone! Each week we come to receive the very life of Jesus right here at this Altar. As we receive the Body and Blood of Christ in Communion, we become Christ-bearers to the world. It is in that strength that we go forth to do ministries that call us to share in the sufferings of others. 
 
So what do I tell my directees and others when the “question of the two gods” comes up? I tell them that I hope they will come to appreciate the whole story, whether of Job or Jesus--and know that the Bible gifts us with story of salvation--from the creation of the world in Genesis to the glorious vision at the end of the Revelation to John. In this Story you will find one God, who is beyond our limited knowledge; who cannot be contained or tamed,  God-with-us in Jesus, and God’s consoling Spirit—one God who is present with us in our own suffering, in the suffering of the elderly, in the suffering of our world.  
 
Here is Good News, indeed!